Closing In
by chocolattemoose
Summary: This was my new home. I was taught to either live with it or be shot for complaining. I'd rather not be shot so I obviously complied; with of course some smacking around. Those days seem fuzzy to me and I can only honestly make out the evening I was led in to my new fate. I like to refer to it as my "Bad Luck". Joker/Harley


Narrows.

Some say you can find a hooker every corner you turn. Others might tell you there was murder on that corner and the slum life that live there would just go on with their daily routine of their mundane lives. Those are just the tales the _High Class_ tell you from what they fear. Who could honestly live off of fear? Such a damn funny joke.

This was my new home. I was taught to either live with it or be shot for complaining. I'd rather not be shot so I obviously complied; with of course some smacking around. Those days seem fuzzy to me and I can only honestly make out the evening I was led in to my new fate. I like to refer to it as my "Bad Luck" or just give it the pretense of "Fuck my Life". It was just a normal work night for me at the Iceburg Lounge.

Yes. I was a "Stripper" but I like to use the formal name, "Exotic Dancer". I recall it started when I was in the Lady's powder room taking a swing of Jack Daniels whiskey; that drink always leaves a weird after taste. We're not supposed to drink before a show; screw that. Not like that fat slob Cobblepot will ever find out, doubt he can even waddle his way back here. All I wanted to do was make my money for the night and go home at dawn. Due to my "Bad Luck", that never happened.

Walking out from the room I saw the other girls, all immature sluts with high hopes that they'll get somewhere in life with this waste of a time job. Ha, it's as if these broads think there's something higher than this. Other than pornography of course, which I expect to see more than half of them in the sacred 18+ section of the DVD store in a couple of years. I had to do this job because I for one actually needed the money for school. My degree is in psychology; studying the mentally insane or unstable. I don't know, people with some sort dysfunction in their lives instead of normality interest me. I roll my eyes at these dumpster bimbos and take off my pea coat and place it behind my chair at my vanity where I see a playing card laying upside down on top of my eye shadow case.

"I don't recall leaving this here last night...unless I was really shit faced." I mutter under my breathe while hesitating to pick up the card.

I was about to pick to up the card when one of the pimps came in hollering drunken slurs for us to get our asses on stage in less then ten minutes. Looking up at the clock I saw it was already ten minutes to ten. Pushing the card aside for a later time I grab my eyeliner and start applying it quickly and then proceed to put on my cherry red lip stainer. Red and black will forever be my favorite colors and if anyone tells me otherwise they'll get a high heel to their face. Which would honestly be totally worth it. Grabbing my black sequined rip away skirt and bikini top I strip down out of my jeans and sweatshirt.

"Harley baby. You have a special client tonight in the VIP room after your first dance. Penguin said be there on time or he'll cut your pay tonight," the pimp slurred leaning on my vanity giving me a wicked smirk watching me change in front of him. Such a fucking creep.

"Can't fucking Cobblepot stop trying so hard to make me feel threatened by him? He should be the one feeling threatened. I'm the most favored dancer here he has. I can leave this pathetic establishment whenever I damn please and guess what...he won't be able to stop me!". I slam my left high heel down on the tile floor off my chair after strapping it on and begin working on my right.

The relationship I have with my "boss" isn't the best you could have. Biggest damn slime ball in the world that Cobblepot. He thinks he owns the Narrows. Nah. All that fat fuck owns is the scared shitless mob he has left to cling on. With Batman around lately his mob has been keeping low and only have been working at their strip joints or clubs in downtown Gotham. Like I said, I just need the money. So I'll continue to kiss that fat ass of his.

I place my right heel on the ground a lot more lightly this time and exhale a long frustrated breath. _Just get tonight done and over with and then you'll have your weekend free, _I think to myself. Hearing the girls giggle in excitement and laughter I know we have to start walking out to the back stage. I grab my purse from under the wooden vanity and take my cell phone out. I open my messages and start a new text session.

_I'll be home around four in the morning. Let's do breakfast at the diner across the street. :) I love you._

"C'mon Harley baby. Get your ass on that stage now or I'll tell-".

"You'll tell penguin what? Hm? What were you going to say?" I look over to the pimp as I press the send button. I give him a light smile and place my cell phone back in to my purse.

"Just get on that stage on time for once Harley. The shows about to get going and you're center stage tonight." I watch him walk out waving his drunk hand around and see him take a long drag out of cigarette.

If I had the chance to punch him in his manhood. I swear I would take it in a heart beat. I'm starting to get sick and tired of having these..."men" try and shove their dicks down my throat. Sooner or later they're going to be the one's with the dick in their mouths. I chuckle to myself as I run a hand through my baby blonde locks. Time for the show to start.

I'm in my own little world. As I sway my hips and grip the cold metal of the pole, I feel free. This is my safe heaven for the night. This pole and this stage. Jumping up and crossing my thighs on the metal, I slide twist with the music. Adjusting my posture I notice a group of masked men enter from the exit door from the far right. _Weird_. They're wearing old worn out clown masks. What? Was the circus in town or something? I smile and move my thoughts to my next stunt.

I glide up the pole and start my closed inside leg hand stunt, timing it with the beat of the music radiating from the many speakers around the club. I use my leg strength to keep balance inform and hear the men in the club holler and clap. A devious smile plasters on to my face. Looks like being a gymnast as a kid does have a big pay off. With these cheers from the crowd I feel contentment. I know this isn't the best job in the world; it's far from it. Hearing those compliments makes me think I actually can go somewhere in this already fucked up life.

Taking my hands off the pole I seductively walk up to the side of the stage and shimmy my hips. I crouch down to my knees slowly and watch the men flock over to slide in bills at the string of my thong. Throwing my hair back I giggle and stand up again walking back to one of the girls. This is the part where they go crazy. Me and Shelly grasp hands and rub our chest together giving the crowd pouty faces. I remove one of my hands and spank her ass hearing her yelp and laugh. More clapping is heard and soon we're all standing with our back to the men and all shake our bodies.

The other girls flourish back to the front and make suggestive body gestures. I on the other hand notice the pimp from before holding up his wrist pointing to his black watch. Time to see this "Special Guest". Walking off the stage and in to the back room again I put on my bright pink skirt and reapply my red lip stainer from before. Cobblepot said he was special. I roll my eyes and sigh. Yeah, right. Probably some rich CEO in Gotham or I like to think of some pompous fuckwit who needs some entertainment since his wife left him because his job is more important than some broad.

"Hey baby, they're waiting for ya right now. Better get your ass in gear," the pimp pushes me along the corridors to the VIP section.

"You know I can handle to get myself there on my own! Stop it-". I reach the room and shove him away.

Going to open the door I hear Cobblepot. What? Do not tell me he's in there too. For God's sake, I swear. I have to perform with him in there too?! Is this a joke because if it is I'm certainly not laughing. I groan in frustration and shut my eyes, imagining that fat fuck getting my heels deep into his eyes.

"Just get this done and over with...you'll be home soon enough Harley." I whisper under my breath and open the door slowly.

"There she is! Harley! Now let me tell you, she is totally worth the money," Penguin smacked his knee giving a light chuckle.

"Well if I'm _totally_ worth the money, why don't you ever give me a raise"? I quipped in quickly walking over towards the glass coffee table.

I eyed the bottle of Stoli Elit. Funny. Penguin can afford a bottle of vodka worth three grand but he can't even give me a pay raise or at least a little extra on the side. Such a low life bastard. The day he finally has it to him I'll be jumping down and up for joy. Okay, not literally but I'd be happy none the less. While I casually pick up the vodka bottle I look over to his "special guest".

He was relaxing back in to the leather black sofa, hands resting on his knees. Were those pinstripe purple pants or am I just imaging things? I raise my brow slightly but not enough for him to notice. Also, what was with that god awful dark green vest and oddly colored tie? Did he think over his wardrobe today? Seriously?

"You know...doll face, it's not polite to stare".

His voice was deep and had an interesting tone to it. It was cheery but almost eerily cheery. I quickly look back towards the bottle of vodka in my hands and reach for a crystal glass shot. All I have to say about this "special guest" is: he is an absolute freak. That is my conclusion. But there was something to him that made me want to take another small peak over. I just poured myself a drink and made my way over to sit in between the both of them quietly.

"Think you can have a drink on the job, missy? I think-". Cobblepot was cut off.

"I don't think it'll kill her...will it"? The guest interrupted as he reach into his pocket for a cigarette, again with that cheery tone.

Taking a quick drink of my vodka, I place the glass on the table and reach for a lighter also. While giving Cobblepot a small smile of pride I notice the other man chuckle. I'm starting to assume that this guy has something over Cobblepot. That was fine by me. I flick the lighter on and light the man's cigarette casually and watch him inhale. That was sort of a turn on. Wait, what am I thinking? I'm already in a relationship. Snap out of it Harley.

"So...doll face, why are you working a job like this? Entertaining Gotham's slum and desperate?" He exhales and leans his head back giving off a smile.

That was the moment I finally noticed those unremarkable scars. They had a chaotic feature to them and I could keep my eyes away from them in the slightest. They were memorizing and it made me wonder, just what did he do to get those permanently on his face? That could be a story for a later time.

"Well, I do want a future. Need the money to get my way through school. If I had the chance to get out of this hell hole I would do it in a heart beat," I cross my legs and run my hand through my hair slowly.

"Gotta say Penguin...you uh, really pick the feisty one's all the time. But...I like you doll face. You got an attitude."

"Thanks. Nice to hear for once that someone here actually appreciates me and who I am," I give Cobblepot a short glare.

"What's you're name? I don't think you've told me yet," I look back over to him and see the barrel of a raging bull revolver pointed straight at my face.

"The Joker or Mr. J if you prefer, Harl girl." He says, his face suddenly cold as stone and his tone changed completely. "Now, Penguin...I want that password." He pressed the safety switch.

From the sound of that single click, my life changed forever.

First try at something like this. Would love to here any type of criticism from reviewers! Also, expect weekly updates and this fanfic will likely change to M in the future. Enjoy and thanks much. :) Questions? Don't be afraid to shoot me a PM!


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